Those Sinful Sundays
by WoahNow
Summary: Edward's never been known for living his life on the wild side, but Bella has. Is it too late for her to show him how to let go and just enjoy the ride? Rated M. Written for Jordan's Birthday Surprise 2011.


**This was written for Jordan's birthday this year as a little gift to him. My amazing Mushy Pea, Nicci, organised it all so you can thank her for this, too :) **

**I'm hoping that by posting this, anyone who reads Distracted might forgive me a little bit for my update being late again. I've still not caught up on the other things I'm writing. **

**For those of you who don't read Distracted, you can forget that last sentence or it may tarnish my image. Ha. Kidding. I don't have an image. **

**Hopefully you will enjoy my bold and naughty Bella, while she shows the shy and nerdy Edward how to have fun. **

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer is queen; or close to it. I'm borrowing her characters and twisting them until she wouldn't recognise their characters. *Whistles innocently***

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><p>I watched the motorbike weave with skill and precision as I wandered down the pavement, the streets almost deserted and rain threatening to pour. There was a chill in the air and I cowered further into my coat, my numb hands wedged deep into my pockets.<p>

When my best friend had asked me to meet him at his favourite bar, I'd told him no. It was with the promise of an early night and a free drink that I eventually agreed, after several hours of persuasion. I would be considered by many as antisocial, perhaps a recluse, and I openly admit, only to myself, that I am somewhat socially retarded. Instead of a night out, I'd rather be stretched out on the sofa in front of the television with a bag of crisps and an action movie.

Arriving at the bar, I noticed the bike, this time propped up beside the curb, kickstand in place. Next to it was a figure, dressed head to toe in leather. I tried not to stare, pretending to fix my gaze on the pavement. I gave up my pretence when the figure eased the helmet off their head, revealing long, wavy brown hair, shining under the light of the street lamp. I'd wrongly assumed that it would be a man. Now I looked more closely, the petite and curvaceous figure should have given her away.

I was gaping in awe an admiration, thankful when she didn't turn round to see me. There was no way I could tear my eyes away and that would only lead to an awkward, floundering fish impression from me if I was caught. She turned towards the door of the bar, her profile displaying gentle features. The mystery woman unzipped her leather jacket and adjusted it slightly before running a hand through her hair and walking, with purpose, into the bar.

I glanced around, trying to find anybody else watching, looking for confirmation that that really had just happened. It wasn't the fact that it was a woman riding the bike that had me so dazed, it was how graceful and beautiful she appeared. She wasn't your average biker, that's for sure. It was as though she had hopped right out of one of those magazines where attractive female models pretended they were motorcyclists. The key word being pretend. This was real, at least I hoped it was. The circumstances would be rather unfortunate if I had become prone to hallucinations; I'm sure my doctor would have something to say about that.

Trying not to draw attention to myself as I entered the bar, I crossed to the stool beside my best friend, with my head down and my shoulders hunched. He rolled his eyes at me when I finally looked up at his face.

"Are you trying to see how out of place you can look?" He asked by way of greeting. I shrugged, focusing on my tapping fingers, drumming against the wooden bar. "You should get out more." He commented after a few seconds and I sighed. We'd been through this before, he never got tired of telling me.

"I'm here, aren't I?" My tone was sharp, but he didn't blink an eye, simply shaking his head, giving in.

I casually searched the tables, looking for my biker girl. Forget girl, she was a woman. _Biker Woman. _That's not so catchy, clearly I need to find out her real name. _Ha. _Did I just laugh at myself? Yes. Yes I did. Let's be honest here, I won't be finding anybody's name out. I know Jasper and that's people aplenty for me.

Jasper flagged down the bartender, ordering himself a beer and me a diet coke. Was I that predictable? Apparently. When the drinks were set down in front of us, I took a healthy gulp before continuing my observations. Trying not to be too obvious, I scanned the tables around us and came up empty. While Jazz preoccupied himself with drawing who-knows-what in the condensation on the bar, I swivelled on my stool and glanced at the tables on the other side of the bar. I finally found her silky brown hair; she was sat with another girl, with dark hair, smart clothes and stylish glasses perched on the end of her nose. She was a stark contrast to her friend and she wasn't the type you would expect to be in a dive like this. I could picture her in high end clubs with the sleek interiors.

As I watched, entranced, from my stool, the brown haired woman shrugged out of her leather jacket, hanging it over the back of the chair and revealing the intricate tattoos covering her exposed shoulder blades, trailing a little way down her left arm. Her top was low cut under her arms, displaying some of her lacy black bra and a lot of her inked back. I let out a quiet groan, unable to stop myself.

There was a kick to my shin and I turned to find Jasper staring at me with a furrowed brow, as though he was either concerned or trying to solve a really difficult problem. Maybe both at the same time.

"Are you okay? You're not getting sick are you? Alice will kill me if I bring any sort of disease home." He was right, she would.

"No, I'm fine, just... pins and needles." I lied, rather unconvincingly, I might add. He nodded slowly, trying to decide whether to believe me or not. He did, thankfully.

"They're a bitch. You end up looking like a spaz, running around trying to shake them off." He commented and I nodded my agreement.

"How's Alice? I'm surprised she isn't here."

"She's good, just having a night in, curled in front of the television. Apparently her favourite show is on, or something. I didn't really ask for too many details." He offered me a lazy grin, silently referring to Alice's ability to talk anybody's ear off about nothing in particular. You could bottle her and use her as a weapon. The enemies would be crying for mercy in no time.

"It's probably a good thing, you know she can drink you under the table."

"We agreed we wouldn't talk about that. Don't break the bro code, Edward. Know your team." His words were a solemn warning, but he knew that nobody went against Alice, best friends or not. It would be your downfall.

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and glanced over to see the mystery woman stood at the bar a few feet away. She turned her head to meet my gaze, a sly smile on her face. Her eyes scanned over the length of my body in a matter of seconds, before returning to my face. Her smile turned to a smirk as she looked back to the bartender, speaking quietly, inaudible over the humming noises of the bar around us.

As I twisted myself to face Jasper again, a glass was set down in front of me. I glanced up and the bartender took that as his cue to explain.

"Our B over there wanted you to have this." He offered with a shrug, nodding his head towards the woman who had been stood at the bar, making eyes at me, moments before. She winked at me over her shoulder before taking her seat and talking to her friend as if nothing had happened. It had. I'd been bought a drink. By a woman. A _hot _woman. One who was oozing confidence and general badassness. That's a word, I'll have you know. I should know, I invented it.

I eyed the amber liquid, trying to establish what it was by scrutinising it. I suppose I could ask the bartender, or even Jasper might know, but he was looking at me with genuine surprise etched on his face. His mouth was slightly open as though he wanted to speak, but didn't know how. Sometimes I forgot how to speak, too. Usually when words were most important.

"What?" I snapped, defensively. I knew what he was thinking, but I waited for him to say it.

"She just bought you a drink." He'd clearly reverted to simpleton terms in his shock, stating the obvious.

"Your observational skills never fail to amaze me." I retorted, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Are you going to go talk to her?"

"Why would I do that?" _Because she's hot! _My inner voice cried; I imagined a little man with his arms flailing crazily. Apparently I'm insane, and I'm not altogether surprised.

"Women don't just buy guys drinks for no reason. You should go thank her, or something. Return the favour? Anything. Carpe Diem and all that shit."

"I- I don't think so." I shook my head, frowning at the glass. "It's just... yeah, I'm fine over here." My response was feeble, my tone weak, and Jasper simply shrugged, giving in.

"Suit yourself."

I tentatively brought the glass to my mouth, tipping it until the liquid slid through my lips and onto my tongue. There was a slight burn, a strong, oaky taste. It wasn't too bad, really. My taste buds weren't protesting too much.

After the initial sip, I placed the glass back down on the beer mat and nudged it to the side. I never drank much alcohol, hence the coke I had been drinking.

Half an hour of casual banter with Jasper later, the Jukebox churned to life and I raised my head to see "B" grinning over at her friend from beside it. It was a mischievous smile she wore, attractive and alluring.

I recognised the intro, but couldn't place it.

Glancing over at her friend, I saw her raised eyebrows and sly grin. There was a question in there, I'm sure, but it wasn't something I could decipher. Her friend pushed out her chair and stood, slipping out of her jacket and hanging it on the back of her chair. The so called "B" walked purposefully towards the centre of the bar, into the empty space between the old and battered tables. Her friend joined her there and they looked at each other, waiting just a beat before they both began dancing. I was transfixed by B's movements, her body pulsing with the beat, sexy and strong.

She swung and rolled her hips, her hands trailing over her body, touching, teasing. I reached absent-mindedly for the amber liquid, without tearing my gaze from the hypnotic movements of the biker girl's body. She flicked her head in my direction, her mouth twisting into a delicious smirk. She knew exactly what she was doing.

I gulped, my mouth going dry, as she began to approach me, stalking, like a predator, towards me. My heart beat was racing, my hands becoming clammy. _What was she doing? _I stared, unblinking, as her expression turned to one that could only be described as a "come hither" look. I'd be coming, alright. It was embarrassing how turned on her actions had made me and I shifted carefully in my seat, trying to get more comfortable and hide my growing arousal.

I had my back pressed against the bar now and she was weaving a path through the tables and the other punters who had stopped to watch her show. I barely noticed the other few people who rose from their seats to dance to the music, forming a small huddle somewhere to my left.

It felt like hours before she was right in front of me. A foot between us. Her eyes blazed, fixing themselves on mine. She took a final step closer, my knees brushing against the front of her thighs. Leaning into me, she rested her hands against the bar, pinning me in place. Her back arched and I resisted the powerful urge to glance down, just a little, to see if I could catch a glimpse down her top. Something told me I would be able to, but the gentleman in me protested.

Her lips were at my ear, warm breath on my already overheated skin. I tried to hide a shudder, my fingers clasped tightly at my sides.

"Did you not like the drink?" She asked, her voice low, sultry, caressing my skin.

"I.. yes, I did." I was nervous, afraid. Her confidence was astounding, intimidating. For someone that rarely talked to women, this new situation was frightening and riddled with uncertainty. _What was I supposed to do? _

"Drink up." I swallowed, that act alone seeming difficult. I couldn't escape her burning stare, the challenge in her brown eyes.

She shifted, pulling back with the glass in her hand. With one eyebrow raised, she held it out to me, waiting. My breathing stuttered. Jasper was silent throughout. When I didn't make a move, she brought it to her lips, eyes on mine, and took a sip. She licked her lips and I tore my eyes from hers to watch, transfixed. Suddenly, my lips were too dry and I swiped my tongue across them.

"Mmm." She hummed before rattling the glass infront of me. I tentatively took it from her and she took a couple of steps backwards, her hips swaying. I gulped desperately at the liquid, trying to sate my thirst. With a wink to me, she signalled to the bartender, who made quick work of setting another drink beside me on the bar.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. My attempts were swatted down at every chance as my thoughts fixed themselves on the dancing woman, her coy looks and the temptation she embodied. I wanted her.

I reached blindly for the glass and the contents was gone within seconds, burning down my throat. With the glass safely back on a steady surface, I straightened up, composing myself. Jasper cleared his throat and I was glad for the distraction.

"I like her," he jerked his head towards the dancing woman who had her back pressed against her friend, both of their arms in the air, heads tilted downwards. The woman's hair swept across her face, hiding it for the most part. "She's a feisty thing." He commented, his expression appreciative, but not in a way that suggested he was checking her out. I knew he was devoted to Alice, it was sickening sometimes, really. Not his loyalty, no, but the love-y dove-y eyes they made at each other. They were too perfect and I was me, I was alone. I'm still alone. Always.

Welcome to my pity party.

I huffed at myself, finding that my eyes were trying to catch up with my head as I nodded in agreement. Weren't they supposed to be attached? I waved a hand in front of my face, assessing the situation. Jasper laughed; a hearty, belly laugh. I frowned at him, wondering what was so amusing.

"That whisky going to your head a little bit?"

"What?"

"I forget you're not used to drinking."

Oh, the alcohol. Yes, that made sense. It explained why my brain was several steps behind, trying to catch up with the present.

"Another one, on the lady." The bartender called over the music.

Joan Jett, that's her name, right? It was fitting. She was badass, like B. I think she was, anyway. She sounds it.

The song was about touching and... yes, I wanted to touch the biker woman. Those hips... the tatts... and more. How had I not noticed the lyrics earlier? I'd heard the song before, but now they had even more meaning. Not that they were ever subtle, but it was as though this woman was trying to kill me, I was going to die of heart failure, or something along those lines.

Her hands smoothing over her body, twisting hips, her knees bending. I caught a glimpse of her lips behind the veil of hair, singing along to the lyrics. It was erotic and my dick wanted to get closer. We both did. His desire was more noticeable.

Once again, the glass was in my hand, the liquid on my tongue. She shook her hair from her face and stared straight at me, the words forming.

_Do you wanna touch, yeah?_

A finger trailing across her jaw.

_Do you wanna touch, yeah?_

Down her neck, along her collar bone. Further. The neckline of her top.

_Do you wanna touch me there? Where?_

The lone digit, travelling over the swell of her breast, around the outside, down her side, past her waist. Her lips were parted, no longer mouthing the lyrics. She pulled her lip between her teeth, her eyes hooded, head tilted back.

In that moment, I was giving a very good impression of a statue. I couldn't move if I tried.

The song finished, the woman laughed along with her friend, who crossed to the jukebox, digging change out of her pocket. _More? I don't think I can take any more. _

"You don't stand a chance." Jasper chuckled, slapping me on the back. I looked, open-mouthed, between him and the brunette.

"She's... I... God." I stammered, not sure what I was trying to communicate.

"I know, man, I know."

I immediately recognised the opening of the Billy Idol song Dancing With Myself. I groaned, out loud. She tossed her head back in laughter at her friend's sly expression.

Her movements started out slow, just her shoulders, as she found the beat, a smile spreading slowly across her lips. Other people were stood now, joining in with their antics and enjoying themselves. I watched on in awe, waiting to see what would come next.

"I'm gonna take a piss." Jasper called to me over the noise and I nodded in acknowledgement, feeling more exposed now I was alone.

A couple of verses in, she cocked her head at me. Once again, she was heading towards me, those hips swinging as though their life depended on it. I was too young to die.

In no time at all, her lips were at my ear and my breathing picked up. If she noticed, she made no sign of it. God, I hoped she hadn't noticed. I had reverted back to my naïve teenage years, although not much had changed since then. I could feel the buzz in my body, some of my self-consciousness having been alleviated as the alcohol found its way into my system.

"Live a little, dance with me." Her voice was soft and alluring, imploring. I found myself crumbling under her request, willing to do whatever she asked. She wanted me and I wanted her, right? For once, I was going to live in the moment and see where it went. I pushed myself off the stool, brushing up against her. I heard her hum, a smirk on her lips and a tinge of pink on her cheeks.

"Lead the way." I told her. She pulled her lip between her teeth, reaching for my hand as she turned, guiding me along with her.

In my alcohol induced haze, I somehow forgot I didn't dance. I can't dance. It didn't matter; her hands moved mine to her hips. Soft, petite hips. She span in my grasp, her back to me. Her arms snaked around my neck and her body was fluid as she danced. I followed her lead, losing myself in the moment.

"Too tense." She mumbled, her brow slightly furrowed. I was taken by surprised when she moved back into me, her back pressed against my chest and her ass... _there_. I sucked in a whoosh of air and she giggled.

"Relax." She urged, grinding her ass into me. _Oh, God. _I groaned, my body responding to her. She felt so fucking good.

"What's your name?" I choked out, distracting myself from how it felt having every inch of her pressed against me; rocking, pulsing, grinding.

"Bella... but everyone calls me B." _B for Bella. Stellar Bella. Bella not a fella. _I grinned to myself, finding the workings of my drunken brain highly amusing. I knew it shouldn't be funny, but it was.

"B... Biker B," I mumbled into her hair and she slanted her head to gaze up at me with her big, chocolate eyes.

"How do you know about the bike?" She asked, never stopping her rhythmic motions.

"Outside... I saw you."

"Oh. Do you ride?" I laughed at that, as I'm sure anyone who knew me would. I drove a grampmobile because it was safe. Motorbikes... yeah, not so safe. I'm a little cautious when it comes to my life.

"I don't ride, it's dangerous." I explained, omitting the part where I found it incredibly hot that she rode a motorbike. Her hand moved down to cup my neck, she buried her face into my jaw, her lips brushing the skin as she spoke.

"I like to live life on the edge. Don't you wanna ride with me?" She punctuated her words with a rotation of her hips, her ass brushing against my now prominent erection. There was no doubt she knew it was there. I grunted in response, because we eloquent gentlemen do that. I was craving friction and words were failing me, my mind drifting to ways in which the tension could be relieved. Suddenly, I found myself understanding why people had one night stands. I never thought I'd want that, but right now I did. Most of all, I wanted her. Here, now. I don't care. _Soon. _

"Fuck," I growled, my jaw tensed, fighting the emotions and the need. I've never felt like this before and something told me it wasn't only the whisky.

"Yes," She muttered, a coy grin exposing itself. "_Please._"

"I-"

"Come on, I'll show you what it's like. The power... between your legs, the speed... it's exciting."

"The bike?"

"Probably." She winked, licking her lips. One of her hands lowered, finding it's way between our bodies until the heel of her palm rubbed me through my jeans.

"Oh, _fuck_." It felt so good and I needed more.

"Let's go," she said, releasing her hold on me and sliding her hand into mine. I was pulled through tables and groups of dancing bodies, Billy Idol long forgotten as he played in the background. Bella signalled to her friend and it reminded me I had left Jasper. He was back in his seat, saluting me with his beer as I headed to the exit.

We were stood in front of her bike and I realised at some point she had snatched up her jacket and was now shrugging into it, covering up the ink. She zipped it up and reached for the helmet on the back of the bike.

"Do you trust me?" She asked, brushing her hair out of her face and sliding on the helmet.

"Um... yes?"

"I don't have a spare helmet, but you'll be perfectly safe. You've just got to hold on tight."

"Oh... okay." She smiled before pulling the visor down over her face and hitching her leg over the body of the bike, shifting a little to get comfortable.

"Hop on," she urged and I did, trying to keep a safe distance between us. My hands were holding onto her hips, but she tugged on them, wrapping my arms around her middle and causing me to shift closer, my chest pressed flush against her back.

"What's your name?" She called, her voice muffled through the helmet.

"Edward." I told her, my thighs tightening their hold on the bike, clinging on for dear life before we'd even moved.

"Don't let go, Edward."

I don't quite know what happened, but suddenly we were sailing through the streets, weaving expertly. The wind whipped across my skin, attacking my already uncontrollable hair. Her body was warm against mine as I clung to her, understanding her love of riding already. It was exhilarating, a thrill.

Ten minutes later, we pulled up infront of an apartment block and she knocked the kickstand into place. Her hand tapped the inside of my knee, indicating for me to get off. I wondered where we were, trying not to hope it was her place. I stood on the pavement as she gracefully climbed off the bike, easily unbuckling the clasp of the helmet and tucking it under her arm.

"Do you want to come up for a drink?" She offered, as though this was your normal, everyday situation. As though we weren't strangers and I hadn't just hopped off her motorbike.

"Sure." I agreed, following her into the building and into the elevator. I saw her glance at me, only briefly. I stood in the corner, out of habit. She was stood a foot to my left, the elevator doors closing infront of us.

"You're different." She told me; a statement, not a question.

"So are you."

"Do I make you nervous?" Bella asked, her eyes closed.

"Not anymore." I confessed, knowing it was true. At first, yes, but now... not so much.

I watched her push away from the wall and step closer to me. My breathing hitched a little in my throat, anticipation pounding in my stomach.

"What about now?" She murmured and I shook my head, having lost my voice.

She moved forward again, her body mere inches from mine. That finger, the one that had trailed over her body early, ran up the front of my right thigh. The higher it got, the harder it was to breathe.

"Now?"

"Y-y-yes." I breathed, trying not to move.

"Don't be nervous, I don't bite."

Her body was on mine within seconds and her lips crashed to mine hungrily. Of their own volition, my hips jerked forwards, seeking friction. Her hands clasped my shirt, her right knee lifting to rest beside my hip on the elevator wall. She rocked into me, her heat against my dick. Fuck, if it wasn't good. My hand found its way under her jacket, stroking the soft skin beneath her top. We both moaned, needy and lust-filled. My other hand was on her ass, holding her against me and kneading the flesh.

Just then, there was the ding of the elevator. Bella reluctantly pulled away and I looked up to find an elderly woman stood at the open doors, taking in the scene before her with wide eyes.

She cleared her throat and I used the shield of Bella's body to adjust myself subtly. Bella glanced over her shoulder before looking back at me with a mischievous smile on her face. She may not be embarrassed, but I was. It wasn't even _my_ neighbour.

"Good to see you, Mrs. F. Have a good night." She greeted cheerily as she slipped past her onto the corridor. I ran a hand through my hair, following after her. We stopped at the first door and Bella pulled a key from her pocket.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed." She grinned, forgetting the locked door and reaching up to kiss me. She pressed her body forwards, pushing me into the door without breaking our kiss. Her hand wrapped around my belt buckle, her fingers curling under the waistband of my jeans. She somehow unlocked the door without looking and we stumbled through it, barely catching ourselves. Not that I would have minded her landing on top of me, that position had its advantages.

The door was kicked shut and Bella took a step back. I leant against the wall, trying to catch my breath. Her fingers tugged at the zip of her leather jacket, once again revealing the top underneath. She took another step back as she shrugged out of her jacket, dropping it to the floor. Her eyes never left mine, but I was watching her with building desire. She toed off her boots, one after the other. Another step back. Next were the trousers, slowly revealing her long, creamy legs. She rolled the leather down her calves, lifting her feet out of them and leaving them in a heap on the floor. Another step back. Her arms crossed over her body, hands gripping the hem of her top. Her smooth stomach was revealed as she lifted the material. The black lacy bra on full display as she slid the shirt over her head, discarding it. Another step back.

I couldn't move, couldn't speak. Things like this didn't happen to me. She was sexy, confident and alluring. She was sinful.

She turned around, her hands reaching behind her to the clasp of her bra as she walked away. The straps fell from her shoulders, grazing her arms as the bra fell from her body. Her head turned, her eyes burning, lips parted, turning up ever so slightly at one corner. _So sexy. _

Her movements were graceful, perfect. I couldn't wait any longer. I prowled towards her, the prey stalking the predator. There was no doubt she was the predator, but in that moment, I got a glimpse of what it would be like to be the one in control, the one with the power.

I caught her hips, moving up behind her, her body pressed into mine. My fingers ventured beneath the waistband of her black, lace boy shorts.

"Such a tease," I growled in her ear, sucking the lobe into my mouth. She moaned, arching her back. I smoothed one hand up over her stomach, finding the tender flesh of her breast. My fingers teased her pebbled nipple as my lips moved to her neck, tasting the flesh behind her ear.

"Edward," it was a sigh, a breath, falling from her lips. One of her hands found its way behind my neck as she exposed more of her own, encouraging my ministrations. Perhaps the roles were now reversed.

I dipped my fingers lower, further beneath her underwear. She whimpered when my fingers found the wetness between her legs, stroking her folds. I circled her clit while my mouth moved to the patterns on her skin. I traced the ink with my tongue and she squirmed, her grip on me tightening. I pressed my erection into her, needing friction.

"What do you want?" I asked her, my voice sounding husky even to my own ears.

"I want..." She panted, "you to... fuck me." I growled, trying to hold myself together.

I guided her forwards with my body, my hands never leaving her. We stood infront on her couch.

"Here?" I suggested, the words spoken into her shoulder.

"Now, here, please." She rasped, releasing her hold on me to grip the back of the couch between her hands, her ass pushed backwards and her back arched.

I tugged on her boy shorts, dragging them down her legs. I kissed a trail down her spine, my hands exploring her smooth skin.

"Stop teasing," the words were a gentle plea. She rocked backwards, emphasising what she wanted. I couldn't draw my eyes away from her as I kicked off my shoes and socks before nimbly unbuckling my belt and my jeans, pushing them down with my boxers in one fluid motion. I made quick work of my shirt, tossing it to the floor until we were both naked.

She looked back at me over her shoulder, her eyes wide and hungry as she took me in. She licked her lips, her eyes were dark with lust and her cheeks were flushed.

"I want you," she purred, meeting my gaze. I eased her legs further apart, pressing gently on her back until she was in the right position. I guided my length to her entrance, running the head through her juices. She was so fucking wet. So ready.

I slowly pushed into her, revelling in the feeling.

"_Fuck," _I hissed once I was sheathed inside her, "so tight."

My hands were on her hips as I pulled out. I guided her movements, synchronising our bodies, rocking together. I thrust into her, groaning.

"So good," she mewled, her back arching further. I placed a kiss on her shoulder blade as I pounded into her, this position causing my thrusts to hit deep. I watched my cock disappearing inside her, incredibly turned on. It was the hottest thing I had seen.

"So hot... so... tight."

Whimpers and moans, skin on skin. It was all so fucking amazing. I wrapped a hand underneath her, my fingers teasing her clit. She gasped my name.

"Shit, Edward... yes."

I grunted with each thrust, my body straining, needing. I could feel my orgasm building, my stomach clenching with the anticipation.

"Close... more," She cried out between ragged breaths. Bella turned her head and I pressed my lips to hers; it was frantic and desperate.

"I'm... I'm..."

"Come for me, B." I urged.

Her walls clenched around my cock, milking me. She muttered a string of profanities, her legs shaking under her weight.

I came undone. My release hit me like a ton of bricks and I came inside her with grunts and groans. I dropped my head to her back, catching my breath. A minute later, I pulled out. She turned around, a flush covering her chest. She reached up, bringing her lips to mine in a heated kiss.

"Shit, that was just... damn." She laughed.

"Best Sunday, ever." I responded with a grin she returned.

Sundays just got a whole lot better in my book.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Thank you for reading my little one shot. I hope you enjoyed it but even if you didn't, I know you're eyeing up that review button down there. Did your eyes just traitorously flick to it? I hope so. I'm not one for begging shamelessly for reviews but how about if I bat my eyelashes and whip out the puppy dog eyes. I'm not whipping anything else out, in case your mind went to the gutter there. Well... maybe I will ;) Kidding, kidding. I don't want to frighten you all away.**

**Hugs and gropes,**

**Callie xox**


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